Perfect Mistake
by Shades
Summary: Draco has a talk with his lover, explaining his perfection. Conversation ends up in two surprises for both parties. Draco P.O.V. Second in 'Perfect' Trilogy but can be readalone.


Summary: Draco talks to his lover, telling about his perfect life...and how it all fell with one mistake. Does Draco regret it?  
  
Disclaimers: Do I need to tell you that I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters? I do? Well, it belongs to J.K. Rowling, a wonderful author.  
  
Warnings: There will be some language, and some sexual references. But it won't go into NC-17. I think. I dunno. Will be second in 'Perfect' trilogy but can be read as a stand-alone. Better to read 'Perfect Son' to understand some aspects. Will have SLASH so don't flame cuz of that. Enjoy!  
  
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Perfect Mistake  
  
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My mind is in a frenzy and my body is racing for that release. I can feel it and I can feel him. Our breaths are coming out in short pants and then it all stops. My back is arched and he pressing up into me and I hear a loud moan - his or mine? I can't tell anymore - before collapsing on top of the body beneath me. I barely notice that he is gasping as well and that we're a bit sticky. It doesn't really matter to me.  
  
I sigh and begin my usual routine of the after-fuck by laying my head on his shoulder - I dimly recall telling Father that this was my favorite place to be in the world - and closing my eyes. My body is sated and all I want to do is lie in his arms and sleep.  
  
My lover has other ideas.  
  
"Draco?"  
  
I groan and bury my face deeper into his skin - so soft, softer than my own - and mumble a weak protest. I REALLY don't want to talk about my visit to Father, even though it's been a few days since the meeting. I've managed to avoid talking about it. At the moment, I would rather not talk, period.  
  
"Draco..."  
  
I should have remembered that he has a determination and stubborn streak the size of Hogwarts. Sometimes it's a good thing but at the moment, I would curse him with my wand if I had the energy.  
  
Letting out a frustrated sigh, I turn my head towards his irritably. I'm always wondering why this relationship continues when we get on each other's nerves so much and we obviously have different ways of life.  
  
Resisting the urge to tell him to shut the fuck up and let me sleep, I growl out in an annoyed tone, "What?"  
  
"Why are you perfect?"  
  
I blink. Huh?  
  
"Huh?" So much for eloquence.  
  
My lover of 2 - soon to be three, my mind gently reminds me - years shifts slightly and moves to lie down beside me. I decide I don't like this. I really don't.  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"  
  
"Moving so that I can talk to you."  
  
"Well, I don't want to talk. I'm rather tired and all I really want to do is go to sleep. Excuse me." That being said, I flip on my side, my back facing my lover. Muttering furiously, I tuck the warm - and sticky, I notice disgustedly - sheets around my quickly cooling body.  
  
My lover is refusing to be put off and wraps his strong - made so by many days of Quidditch training - around me and tucking his head where my shoulder meets my neck. His breath is warm and runs by my cheek slightly. I shiver but not out of cold.  
  
"Well, I do want to talk. I'm not that tired..."  
  
"How can't you be? We just spent three hours fucking!"  
  
A soft sigh and he presses closer to my body. "Is that all it is to you?" His voice is quiet and full of pain. My eyes close, because I don't want to see the hurt in those eyes of his. I've given enough, and I really don't want to give more but he can't really expect me to change completely, can he?  
  
Giving a sigh of my own, I twist my body around and wrap my own arms - shining brightly against his darker skin - around his waist. He quickly accepts this affection and spoons himself against me. It still amazes me of how much he loves my caresses, no matter how small.  
  
Mentally giving a grumble of defeat, I press my forehead - still sweaty - against his and rub against him. I still love his skin and just touching him is enough to make me soften my sharp tongue.  
  
"What do you want to know?"  
  
"Why are you so perfect, Draco?"  
  
"What are you babbling about now?" One would think that spending so much time with my lover would soothe my sharp tongue but no.  
  
A sigh and he continues patiently again. "Why are you so perfect? How come you seem so flawless?''  
  
"Well, why wouldn't I be?" Arrogant, like how I was taught to be. A glare tells me to be serious and truthful. Hmph. Can't he take joke? The glare continues, and I sigh before continuing as well. "Because I was taught and raised to be."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Bloody hell...are we going to do that stupid 'why' conversation? You know I don't like that. I thought you were being serious."  
  
He rolls his lovely eyes. "I AM being serious, Draco. Why?"  
  
I glower slightly before answering. "Because my father told me I had to be. I'm a Malfoy, nothing less is expected."  
  
"All Malfoys are perfect? I somehow very much doubt that..."  
  
"Are you going to mock and insult my family? Because if you are, I warn you now I will retaliate." I don't think I like where this is going...  
  
"Damnit, Draco. I'm not insulting anyone. I'm just trying to figure you out." Frustration is leaking into his voice. He was never good at concealing his emotions.  
  
Another sigh and I place my head softly against his. "Always curious...I'm perfect because I have to be. I have no choice. I was raised under the impression that I could never have any flaws or any mistakes...and I've never had any. Except one."  
  
He tilts his head up and looks at me curiously. "One?" An amused twinkle enters his eyes. "Are you sure about that?"  
  
I lightly thawp him and he laughs, something I never grow tired of hearing. "Prat."  
  
"That's me." He grins cheekily at me before asking again. "So, o perfect one, what's your one mistake been?"  
  
That's when I remember the box that Father gave me. I chew my lip - an imperfection - and wonder if I should give it to him. Is it right? Is it perfect?  
  
Another sigh escapes my lips and I carefully untangle myself from him. The smile immediately leaves his beautiful - how could I ever think otherwise - face and worry replaces it.  
  
"Draco?" A tremor.  
  
I softly pad across our room - in our apartment, who would have ever thought it - and bend over, searching my robes for that velvet box.  
  
"Draco...?" He's very worried now. I can hear him lightly walk over to where I'm looking for it.  
  
I straighten up, the box concealed in my hand and look at him. His hair's messy - perfectly explainable, considering what we were doing but it's always like that - and the boxers - Snitch ones, so childish, so imperfect for his age - and shirt - a dark blue, going badly against the boxers, another imperfection - are rumpled. But his eyes. Will they justify him?  
  
I feel nervous. That can't be right. I'm never nervous.  
  
Perfection is flawless.  
  
"Draco..." He's staring at me, those eyes of his wide.  
  
I hold out my hand and open it, revealing the box. He looks at, looks at me, and then hesitantly picks it up.  
  
I can see him opening it and the nervousness - no, not nervous, perfect - crawls along my skin.  
  
He's staring at it. His eyes reflect the shimmer of the precious stones. His head slowly moves up and he looks at me.  
  
"Draco."  
  
My smile - he's the only one to see it - is on my face and I look at him warmly. "You are. You're my perfect mistake."  
  
His eyes shine like the jewels they are and he's smiling. My lover practically tackles me with his hug, his arms wrapping around my neck. I feel slight moisture on my neck, and I wonder what's wrong.  
  
"Love?" It feels odd to say that. But he's my imperfection so I suppose it's allowed.  
  
He pulls back, joy in his breathtaking eyes. "I love you too."  
  
He looks at the ring again, a smile on his face now, and he touches it, I suppose just feeling it...  
  
...and he's gone...  
  
I blink. But he still isn't there. It's just the room - the empty room and empty bed - and me. He isn't here.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
And a ball of dread begins in my stomach as I realize what's happened.  
  
That ring was my father's Portkey.  
  
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AN: My god! I did it! I FINALLY finished it.  
  
(Lest) You call this finished?  
  
(Shades) Shut up.  
  
Whoo! Only one more part to go! *ducks objects thrown by readers* I'll get the next part up faster! Block is gone!  
  
(Lest) *sarcastically* Oh, so will Opacre be updated too?  
  
(Shades) *glares* I can do the other ending you know..  
  
(Lest) ...I'll be good...  
  
(Shades) *smirks*  
  
Anyway...Last part will be up soon, along with Opacre post. Happy now?  
  
Please review! It means a lot to me! Might help keep blocks away!! 


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